


Ship of Fools

by iSaphura



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, POV First Person, Zenigata makes a cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:31:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iSaphura/pseuds/iSaphura
Summary: Set during Episode 23 of Part V. Some events seen on screen and some off screen, as experienced by Goemon.





	Ship of Fools

**Author's Note:**

> Goemon is my favorite character in this series, in part because he and I are very similar but also because he is often under-utilized as a character and deserves more love. He's awesome and I love him and he needs a hug. I'm not tagging it as such, but I suppose there are a few points where you could call this Lupin/Goemon. Lupin is a cuddle bug. Goemon is ace and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands.  
> There is one swear word.  
> (God knows how many times I have watched this episode, mostly to play around with matching different songs to Jigen's shoot-out. You'd be surprised how well some songs work.)

I do not resist. Rough hands pull me away from him and throw me to the ground. The hard metal of a gun barrel is jammed into my side as more hands grab my arms and jerk them behind my back. The heavy weight of bodies pins me down. The cold circles of handcuffs surround my wrists.

Still, I do not resist.

Still, my eyes do not leave him.

Lupin is lying there, still. So still. He is surrounded by blood, so much blood. Too much blood. There is shouting around me, but I cannot understand the words. My brain is frozen.

What have I done?

_What have I done?_

I don’t remember much after that.

* * *

 

Even though there are no windows, my cell is maintained on a day/night cycle. I begin to dread the time when the lights begin to dim and then finally turn off, leaving me in the dark. It is in the dark that the nightmares come. Most often, they involve my recent battle with Lupin and end with him lying on the floor in a pool of his blood, asking me why as I stand above him. But after a few days, Jigen joins the dreams. Then I strike down Ami. Then I cut open Fujiko's cage and she screams for me to stop. Then I turn on Zenigata and the security forces with him until Zantetsuken has been turned red and I am soaked in their blood. All of them lie there dying, quietly asking me why.

The worst is when he shows up. The man I was, the man who I could have been. The one that appeared before me in the midst of my fight and then melted away into Lupin. He strikes hard and true until my Zantetsuken bends and breaks under the force of his blows. All the while he screams at me, berates me, scolds me.

Those are the dreams I wake up from screaming.

I desperately wish for the familiar weight of Zantetsuken in my hand. Sometimes I find my left hand has curled up into the shape of holding the sheath as if my hand is reflexively remembering holding the sword. I do not know what has become of Zantetsuken. I tossed it aside once I realized what I had done. Once I saw Lupin fall, his chest cut open by my strike.

Zantetsuken… answer me this… what have I done? What have we done?

I was used. Manipulated. Made into a puppet. I doubted myself, my friends, everything. I was always taught to never hesitate, never doubt, always be sure and true. Trust in my skills and my sword, and they would lead me.

But where have they led me?

At times I have visions of my old masters. They tell me how I am a failure, a tarnish to their name. I do not defend myself. They are right. I should have killed Lupin without a second thought years ago. But I thought myself smarter. I thought if I could learn from Lupin, discover his secrets, I could become stronger. I could become the best there was.

I was a fool.

I did not become stronger by following Lupin, I became weaker.

Nobody tells me of Lupin's condition. The blow I struck him with was a killing blow and yet... I hesitated. The cut was not clean. Such hesitation spells death, however Lupin was clinging to life when I was dragged away. If anyone could survive such a blow, it would be Lupin.

I barely touch my food until the morning of the fourth day, when I have my first true visitor. Inspector Zenigata angrily barges into my cell, all but tossing a tray of food into my lap. He then grabs the chair, spins it around and sits down.

Neither of us move for a few minutes.

"I'm not leaving until you eat at least three-quarters of that," he growls. "I'll force it down your throat if I have to. I'm not having you try and starve yourself in my custody again."

It is then that I realize just how hungry I am, and how much my body is crying out for nourishment. I am accustomed to fasting on occasion, but it seems I must break this one. The relief is plain on his face as I lift a bite of rice to my mouth and eat it. As promised, Zenigata does not move until I have eaten most of my meal, not speaking the entire time. He just watches me.

We both know he could watch me from the security cameras, but he still spends a few hours each day outside my cell. It… his eyes are a form of torture. I hold great admiration for Inspector Zenigata. After all these years, he has never given up on his quest to arrest Lupin. No matter how many times Lupin slips through his fingers, he always gets back up. He has succeeded a few times in the past, though only as long as Lupin allowed. He is one of the few men who has bested me, and one of a select few who has bested me more than once and lived to tell the tale. I glance up at him. His face is neutral, a mask hiding whatever he is thinking about. I close my eyes and lower my head. Does he pity me? Is he angry? Disappointed? I cannot tell.

I feel like a child trapped under the gaze of their parent, unaware of what they did wrong.

This routine continues for the next several days. No one says anything, but I know that Lupin is still alive because Zenigata must be spending his time elsewhere, and he hasn’t tried to kill me yet.

No one speaks to me. Sometimes Zenigata announces himself when he brings my meals. Sometimes I speak to myself, just to make sure my voice still works.

Finally, one evening, Zenigata says more than his few words of greeting.

“Lupin is stable enough to be moved,” he says. “We are making arrangements now for you both to be transported from Olig Island to France in the next day or so. The ICPO is closing in on Jigen, he should be in custody soon.”

I nod. “I see.”

He waits as I eat my meal. I struggle to keep my hands from shaking. After he leaves, I feel the tears run down my face. They are hot and fat. I do not know why I cry: shame, joy, sorrow, anger, many emotions well up within me until I cannot contain them.

What a fool I am.

* * *

 

It does not take us long to reach the port. The ride is in silence. I am flanked by two well-armed security men, my hands and feet bound to a ring in the floor. Lupin is laid out across from us. He does not wake during the trip. Zenigata rides in the front and checks on his captives in the mirror every few minutes.

I wish they didn't transport us together. It makes sense: someone has to watch after Lupin, and clearly I have lost my will to kill him. Besides, it is more efficient to ship us in the same container.

The container is... cozy. It has two beds, a sink, a table, a chair, and an air unit. There is a small compartment at one end with a bathroom. In terms of confinement conditions, it is far from the worst either of us have seen. They wait until Lupin has been transferred to his cot and his handcuffs removed before they take my handcuffs off. He is checked over by a medical team, who deem him cleared for travel. One of the doctors notices me sitting on my cot.

"Make sure he rests," he says. "He's still in a delicate position. Don't excite him too much. He will need... help."

I nod. It is not the first time I have cared for Lupin after he has been injured, however, it is the first time I have ever heard him described as _delicate_. Lupin is many things, but never delicate. For a moment regret grips my lungs and I cannot breathe.

The doctors leave, and the security team makes sure we are secure so we can be loaded onto the ship. I can feel Zenigata's eyes on me as he watches from the doors of the container. They don't leave me until the doors are closed. It is pitch black for a moment, and then the lights come on. A few minutes later, the container rocks slightly as we are raised into the air. It swings when it is moved over the ship. I let out the breath I was holding as the container is placed onto the deck of the ship. They secure the container. It is the only one; we are this ship's only cargo.

What feels like hours pass when a slight tremor runs through the ship. Deep within the great ship, her engines roar to life. Her horn blasts, loudly proclaiming her departure. Outside lines are tossed, the ship inches away from the pier and we are underway.

* * *

 

He hasn't woken since we left, I suspect they gave him something before we left Shake Handz. Unfortunately, they didn't supply him with more, and it will wear off soon. Once he wakes up, he will be in pain.

Lupin is still pale, so pale, like his color and life has drained away. He looks like a porcelain doll, one that would shatter and break at the slightest touch. Even his blue jacket seems paler, dimmer. He is a bird with his wings clipped and plumage dulled. It... it is unlike him. He should be so full of life that it fills this space to bursting, just as he always does. How did Jigen describe him once? He has the flash and bang of a firework, one that leaves your ears ringing and eyes dazzled for hours afterward.

Except now the firework called Lupin the Third has fizzled out.

"Stop staring, pal, you're making me blush."

I gasp. "Lupin…"

He opens his eyes. He looks exhausted and pained, but some color has returned to his face. The corners of his mouth struggle upwards and his eyes try to capture some of their usual glitter.

“Don’t look so blue,” he says, the pain clear in his voice. “I’m still alive and kicking.”

I sigh. “Yes, I suppose you are, Lupin.”

He smiles and winces in pain. "Remember the last time this happened?" he asks. "When that gal tricked you... You fell for her, but it turned out she was a guy all along. You really are a magnet for trouble when it comes to women!”

I remember the last time. I know he is trying to lighten the mood, but the memory is a sour one. I was naive, I was used, I was tricked. I was someone’s puppet. It is not something to make light of.

“Laugh, Goemon!” he says. “Once something’s over, you may as well laugh about it.”

He begins to laugh, or tries to. It is forced. His voice is weak from disuse. His eyes suddenly widen and he doubles up in pain. I reach out to try and help him, but he waves me away.

“I mean, what else can you do at a time like this?” he asks. His goofy grin is plastered to his face, but it looks ready to slip off at any moment. I close my eyes, unable to meet his. How can he do this? How can he find something to laugh at now? Everything has fallen apart. Our lives have fallen apart. He is badly injured. We are both held captive. Our only allies are either hunted or imprisoned. And it is all my fault.

That is why he is laughing.

If he didn’t laugh, he would probably cry.

Lupin is in pain. He nearly died. One of his friends tried to kill him and the other is who knows where. He knows what I am thinking. He knows I am blaming myself. He is worried about me. The idiot is worried more about me than himself. He is willing to go through all this pain just to…

What a fool Lupin can be. What a laughable fool.

I feel the edges of my mouth twitch upwards. For the first time in weeks, I smile. For the first time in ages, I laugh. At first, it is just to make him feel better, but soon I am truly laughing. It feels so much better than the alternative, though tears still leak from my eyes. Lupin smiles and lays his head back on his pillow. He laughs with me. There is still pain, there is still exhaustion, but he laughs. We laugh. We laugh because, despite everything, despite fate conspiring against us, despite staring death in the face, we are alive. We laugh because when we try to kill each other, we end up living. We end up laughing.

What fools we are.

* * *

 

Lupin slowly regains his strength. He is still quite weak, it seems that they waited for the bare-minimum of recovery before transporting him. If he recovered too much strength, he and I would become flight risks, but if he didn't have enough strength the strain of travel would kill him. It is a fine balance, and it is up to me to keep it.

He spends most of his time sleeping. There is not much else to do. I can only meditate for so many hours a day, so many days in a row. Though I do not have any of my usual tools, I begin to go through some of my old exercises. My body remembers the moves, my hands remember the shape and feel of Zantetsuken. My sword is, presumably, somewhere on this ship. Zenigata has it now and has said he will hold onto it until my sentence was served. I doubt I will ever serve my sentence to the end, I doubt I will ever hold Zantetsuken again. I trust Zenigata with my sword, he will take care of it.

"You're very graceful, you know."

I startle at his voice. Lupin is lying on his cot, watching me. "Your sword work, it's like a dance. A beautiful, deadly dance."

"I suppose it is." He is right: swordsmanship is like a dance. You must know each step, and react in time with your partner's. One false step and the dance comes to a climactic end. He shrugs and readjusts his position so he is facing the wall.

Eventually, I get him to join me. There is not a lot of space, and Lupin lacks the strength needed for anything more than the most basic forms, but it helps him regain his balance and strength. I can tell he gets frustrated at how his injury holds him back, but he never shows any signs of resenting me for inflicting it upon him. He simply works through the pain and makes the limitations work for him.

We are fed two meals a day, with a snack in between. Lupin's meals consist mostly of soft foods, and mine are familiar and surprisingly good. Zenigata is making an attempt at having familiar and good food prepared since Lupin and I both have histories of hunger strikes. We laugh at the thought of the Inspector down in the ship’s galley, wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron and hovering over the stove. Lupin practically cries for joy on the occasions he is given a chocolate pudding cup. It is in those moments that he is like his old self.

I do my best to care for Lupin. He is not the easiest of patients at the best of times, but he tolerates my coddling him. He has grown thin over the past few weeks, a result of his injury and his body wasting away from the lack of exercise. I notice some of his newer scars: the bullet wound from Albert, and the twined incisions from being shot with an arrow in Padar. The later has barely healed over and is still tender.

"Not the first time that's happened," he says quietly. His eyes glaze over for a moment as he remembers the first time, when he was young and naive and thought himself invincible and unstoppable.

We all thought of ourselves as invincible, once. We all thought ourselves unstoppable.

What fools we were

* * *

 

“Goemon! Goemon!”

A new voice joins the cacophony of screams. Hands continue to drag me down, though I struggle against them. Everything is dark. I cannot see. I cannot breathe.

“C’mon Goemon!”

I start to break free and claw my way to the surface when a new set of hands grabs me. I recoil as the rotting visage comes into focus. It opens its mouth.

“Goemon snap out of it…!”

I lash out, striking out at the vision and in the process propelling myself upwards towards…

Consciousness.

There is a soft _snap_ and a small light clicks on. Lupin is kneeling on the ground, one hand to his chest. He is in pain but also concerned. My mind reels from the dream.

Another dream, another nightmare. I thought I had conquered them before we left. I have never had nightmares like this.

“Lupin, did I…?”  
“Just a glancing blow,” Lupin gasps. “Are you okay? You… you were screaming.”

Again, he is more concerned about me than himself. I look down at my hands. In the dream, they were red. They are always red. I was drowning in a sea of blood. “I am fine.”

“Bullshit.”

He grabs my arm. His face is hard, angry, but also sad. I often wonder how Lupin copes with his emotions; they are so vibrant at times. Suddenly it changes and softens.

“Lupin, please,” I say.

He doesn’t let go. He just stares at me. It’s like back in Shake Handz, when Zenigata would watch me eat. I want to look away, but I can’t. He says nothing, he just gives me a gentle smile, gives my arm a gentle squeeze, and returns to his cot. Lupin does not turn the small light off, a small gesture I am thankful for.

What a fool he is.

* * *

 

We are allowed, once a day, to walk two laps around the ship. Lupin can barely manage a lap around our container with help. Without help, he can barely get from one end to the other. At first, I do not wish to go without him, but he convinces me otherwise.

"Enjoy the ocean for me," he says. "Tell me what you see."

So I tell him about my laps around the ship. How annoying it is to have my ankles chained and several armed guards around me. I tell him if I see Zenigata or not. About any birds I spot flying freely through the sky. About the wind and the waves and the deep blue of the ocean and the rich azure of the sky. How the sun feels on my skin, the shape of the clouds, and one day I tell him about the rain. A few times I spot other ships: sometimes other tankers, sometimes smaller vessels. He listens intently as I describe to him what I see, and he closes his eyes to recreate my walk and take it for himself. Together we live out what could be our last taste of freedom, as limited as it is.

Finally, after several days, I tell him I saw land. He smiles and says he is looking forward to solid ground, but I can see the sadness and worry in his eyes. He has a hard time hiding his emotions these days. I am worried too. Zenigata always said he would drag us back to Japan to stand trial, but our crimes span the globe and the powers that be have decided we were to be tried in an international court. Once we reach France, we will be transported to a maximum-security facility and most likely separated until our trials. The next time we will see each other will be in a courtroom... if we ever see each other again.

But there is another reason he is worried.

There has been no news of Jigen, not since Zenigata told me that they were closing in on him. That was days ago. No news might be good news, but it might not be. Even if he has evaded the police, he will have nothing left. None of us have anything left. PeopleLog has uncovered everything: every safe place, every stash, every trove, every haven. Jigen is a capable man, but how long can he last on his own with the entire world looking for him?

The ship stops offshore for the evening to wait for its pilot in the morning. That night, the sea is rough. The large ship rises and falls like a great beast. Lupin spends most of the night with his head in the trash bin. I do my best to comfort him, but as the evening drags on and the ship continues to rise and fall, I too succumb. We laugh, sick as dogs and lying on the floor because Lupin nearly rolled off his cot at one point. Lupin's laugh is no longer pained and forced. It contains genuine mirth, as does mine.

We laugh and laugh and laugh until we are both exhausted and fall asleep. When I wake up, it is to the sound of Zenigata banging on our container door, telling us we have arrived. Lupin stays asleep through this, his head nestled into the crook of my shoulder and a small smile on his face. I don’t dare move; this is the most peaceful he has looked since before this all began. He deserves some peace before whatever fate has in store for us.

Ten minutes later, the smile grows. “Your arm has fallen asleep, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I suppose we should get up and make ourselves presentable for our adoring crowds.”

Our prison is loaded onto a truck, and we begin our journey. The trip through the city is slow. We do not see our adoring crowds, but we can hear them muffled by the steel of the container. We can hear the crowds of people lining the streets, trying to catch a glimpse of the world’s greatest thief and the world’s greatest swordsman, the last of their kind. Their view is blocked by the steel container, but no doubt in the years to come that barrier will fall and we will have been seen in all our imagined glory.

“I saw them!” they will say. “I saw them! I was there when they were taken away.”

Once we are out of the city, the truck and accompanying caravan move quickly. Lupin lies on his cot, and I sit in my chair. We wait. It takes three hours to drive from Marseilles to Lyon, we have made the trip ourselves a number of times.

The first hour passes uneventfully.

As does the second hour.

Then, suddenly, the truck slows and rumbles to a stop. I look up, confused. It is too soon for us to have arrived. “Has something happened?”

“It’s him.”

My heart skips a beat. At last, the moment has come. The one we have been waiting for. The final act has begun, and all the players are in place.

Lupin opens his eyes. The mischievous glitter has returned to them at last.

“He’s here.”


End file.
